#rockets
Your not just beautiful.
I see you every time I look up.
The star that shines it's brightest.
Filling my life.
The moon lit like a dream.
And forever I stare.
Listening to the silence.
Awaken by a soft light I know it's you.
I can feel your touch hovering about.
Counting the steps until our arms leave our side.
The possibility of traveling from one sphere to the next.
Our eyes but dots in wait.
The question of rockets and big bangs.
The essence of time interlocked between our fingers.
With no room left to breathe, our rocket becomes continuous.
With you, a compilation of light.
Is there any question to why my arms stretch as far as they do.
I gravitate to you, the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen.
To be the space you fill in infinite devotion.
Your not just beautiful, your astonishingly out of this world.
Our arms no longer by our side. the rocket pierces the stratosphere.
We explode internally
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
Poems are born and given
names like people are don't they?
vested with special brainy wings right? then ejected!
as if birthing slides
help push them through
a cyber time machine
computerized world
poems seem to travel
as in rockets to space
yes that fast!!
Others ballooned by air
in baskets moved slowlier
or in simple rainbow sorted
balloon batches and
then gone with the wind!
inflated by helium air
initials inscribed on each
from the parent poet or poetess
"A lot more happens
to poems"
Lucky few reposted by the
holy sages of H.P
a few more seem air lifted in
an eye blink secluded in mysterious arenas
Jack in the box boxes!
private uncirculated rooms
there reveared?
All poems in my world
seem firstly inspected by
the same compassionate
doctor, few masked Knights
powerful mystery kings
birds of song, purring cats
even angry dogs all sorts
same crafty nurses seem
to eagerly revise
their parchment scrolls
and from there nothing
is heard of these
baby boomer poems
or if ever are read by others again who can tell? It's unclear unless a fee is paid
its like having children
really isnt't it?
that must be sent away as in
time machine missions once named treasured revised
adored then freedoms grant'd
some poems will make it explored reapearing loved reposted moving priceless!
other poems perish
by green with envy
other muses hubbering
curiously around
lizards wizards snakes
all sorts.
Poems seem to travel
dead silent through
a cyber mirror
Twilight Zone
~~~~~~~~
By:Karijinbba.
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC
we stood tall;
free and unabridged
a testament to our youths
but when they called us down
we stayed standing
our height shrunk
wrinkles worn on torn porcelain
a graying of old stone
we grew fatter off decadent fruit
while caged animal fed on imprisoned others
and the minority was culled to a head
in internment camps
in privatized prisons
in the courts
and the legislator's building
in the very creation of the nation
stillborn at conception
an aborted fetus carried to term
delivered, to be chucked to the wayside
weened off the milk of a tormenting yearn
to make, to build, to think, and learn
but we stifle that now
in favor of rockets to fly
leaning toward oil to burn
will there be a scream when we die
or will this silence hold firm?
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 12:33 PM UTC
We’ll hitchhike to mars
on a rocket not a car,
so say your au revoirs.
We’ll steer towards Polaris, the north star
right through the center of the milky-way-bar.
See, the universe is dark and chocolatey.
Stars that glitter like multi-faceted gems,
are just shiny, yellow, peanut M&Ms,
take a handful, if you’d like, they’re free.
We’ll dodge the silhouetted moon,
which is made of enough coconut macaroon,
to make a French confectioner swoon.
As we go streaking, like a comet’s tail,
drag a finger through Saturn’s rings as well,
those are made of marshmallow.
We’ll pass nebulae made of cotton-kandi,
and here’s a fact Einstein would have found handy,
the speed of light doesn’t apply to candy.
.
.
Ramble on by Toni Jevicky
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 11:25 PM UTC
Rage of a miser...
In a rocket to the moon
Is a variety the vanity we expect, finer
Light's and jewels of fame, can be found at home
The engines pearl, and then cease
Such a futile grace, for a lunar lander
The wake and sake we exact, to science
Is ours for a penny pinched, and an answer handier
Gold is a rock-hard silence, so thick it fell in love with you
Travail, in its wayward sigh, to wishes of silver stars, which meticulously hide
And behave perfectly, with a rolling sleep, is a bronze couth?
To these, no man's irony, has a face of determination, that is sly...
Misers be ****** nature must take it's turn
With the full cheeks of wisdom, or the kissing eye's of reason
Are we to assume, the deafness of space, to earn?
A callous, but well, beautiful way to courage's season:
On the ground we call tomorrow
A strange fate. for a muddy face and its charity of nose
Today is a shrewd levity in low, to seek the higher today, to borrow
Yesterday's smile, from a sorry voice, ready to dance the most
Over to you...
Sweet muscles and guaranteed weight, or realer sate
Of a remembered question, come from a mouth to rage at a fool
Is a worldly eye ready for me, when a tongue hungry for our fate...
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 12:53 PM UTC
I see the rockets’ red glare
The bombs bursting in air
I feel for the good people, the evil must die
**** everyone, there must be an end to their lie
Life is not poverty, illiteracy or starvation
It’s peace, love and humanity that makes a nation
3/21/26
Mar 22
Mar 22, 2026 at 12:01 PM UTC